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Poems 



By 
IVOR G. WILLIAMS 



SAULSBURY PUBLISHING COMPANY 

BAIiTIMOSE, MD. 



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By Author, 1918 



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J. F. TAPLEY CO. 
New York 






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Dedicated 

TO 

My one and only sister, Ethel. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

France, We Thank Thee 3 

Gone 6 

Bermuda 7 

He Lived Not Long 8 

Love 9 

God Knows What Is Best 10 

The Only One 12 

The Horizon 14 

The Ten Virgins 15 

Electricity 19 

Weavers of Speech 21 

The Gladiator 23 

I Loved Once 26 

Revenge 27 

O Lord Have Mercy 31 

Sleep 83 

A Rainy Day 34 

The Rest on the Way 36 

Evensong 37 

Come Out, I Say 39 

Salisbury Cathedral 40 

The Violins 43 

The Wind 44 

His Dead Love 46 

Eyes of Blue 48 

Left Alone 49 

The Question 51 

Not for Him 62 

"Afraid to Die" 54 

The Convict's Last Act . 68 



FRANCE. WE THANK THEE 

Fair France, think of all thou hast done 
Since this mighty struggle begun; 
We know well thy sons one and all 
Have answered to their country's call 
By laying down their lives 
For thee and for that sacred cause — 
Honour, right, respect due thy laws. 
For strength they cry to him above ; 
For France they give up all they love, 
Mothers, sweethearts, and wives. 

Gallantly thy sons have always. 
Even way back in ancient days, 
Fought to keep France out of distress; 
Year after year without a rest 
Back in those stormy days. 
Now in this war they still can hold 
Their own bravely, both young and old. 
As in the past, showing us how 
What they did then they can do now, 
Their dashing, fearless ways. 

Let us not forget the women 
Who have proved themselves, like the men, 
To be brave in time of danger. 
Sent to the land of a stranger, 
Insulted at all times; 
What of those women, young and old, 
Who, forced to go where they are told.? 
And then made to work for the foe — 
A life of misery and woe — 
Who shall pay for these crimes.? 
3 



FRANCE, WE THANK THEE 

Wives torn away from their husbands, 

All separated from their friends, 

Then young daughters from their mothers 

And fair sisters from their brothers 

To places no one knew. 

Young girls stolen away by night. 

While their lovers are at the fight. 

Deported to another land. 

Such acts the women have to stand ; 

We know these things are true. 

We must not forget furthermore 
Those women who make shells for 
The men who stand behind the guns 
That bombard those devilish Huns. 
Have'you heard them complain ? 
These women, working night and day, 
So as to keep the foe at bay; 
For a woman no easy work 
Filling shells, yet they do not shirk 
Either danger or pain. 

France, to thee we express our thanks, 
To men and women of all ranks. 
Sacrifices ye have for sure 
Made, yet ready to suffer more, 
But victor}^ will come 
To your heroic people who 
Are set on seeing this war through. 
And when this war does end all will see 
It will not be necessary 
To ask what France has done. 
4 



FRANCE, WE THANK THEE 

Although not alwa^^s in the past 
Have we been friendlj^, j^et at last 
We find thee, France, our great ally 
Along with us to fight and die 
Either on land or sea. 
Then your brave squadrons of the air — 
For us what will those men not dare? 
Well rewarded God grant you may be. 
But for the present we must say 
France, fair France, we thank thee. 



GONE 

At last he has passed away. 
For no wealth, love, skill, or pain 
Could the hand of death then stay 
Or bring him back once again. 

Although wealth, learning, and skill 
Had done all that could be done; 
All these had saved him until 
The hand of death chose to come. 

But when it came nothing could 
Drive death away from the bed. 
And nothing in this world would 
Bring him back now he was dead. 

Though no more you will him see 
He of whom you were so fond, 
What matter so long as he 
Has gone to that land beyond.? 



BERMUDA 

All alone, surrounded by the mighty ocean, 
Thou art indeed a tiny country of thy own ; 
Ever peaceful and still, far from all conmiotion. 
Thou art one of the fairest spots that is yet known. 
A land of bright sunshine and gay flowers, thou art 
A regular fairyland with all thy many charms. 
How I shall miss, when the time comes for me to part, 
Your white beaches, coral shores, your cedars and 
palms. 



HE LIVED NOT LONG 

A little child, in fact 'twas a babe just born, 

That broke the stillness at the first light of morn 

With wails and cries. Were they of sorrow or joy? 

None could tell for that dear little baby boy 

Lived not long enough to be able to tell 

Any after whether he felt ill or well ; 

For not long had he been in this world of sin 

Before the Lord came along and called for him. 

He was carried away to that home above 
Where they say all is peace, happiness, and love. 
He is with the angels now, who ever sing 
Praises, by day and night, to their Lord and King. 
He knew not this world ; he went too soon to know 
Its trials and temptations, misery and woe. 
By God's mercy I may meet him by and by, 
But for now, baby, you are luckier than I. 



LOVE 

Love; what is love? do you know? 

Is it that which makes hearts beat so? 

That fills a maiden with bliss 

And makes her brave, can love be this? 

For do we not think it queer 
Women can live with men they fear? 
Yet they would not change their lot, 
Though men are brutes, they leave them not. 

Is it love that gives them bliss? 
What else would make them act like this? 
Their men beat them, make them cry. 
Yet these women stay till they die. 

And cannot a certain girl 

Set a young man's head in a whirl? 

What is it that makes this so? 

Ask the young man — does he not know ? 

Midst sorrow, trouble, and care. 
One can always find love still there. 
Ileal love cometh from above 
God gives us love and He is love. 



GOB KNOWS WHAT IS BEST 

'Tis true that God knows what is best, 
What is best for you and me. 
Though 'tis not alwaj^s we think so ; 
Often we think He does not know 
When we are put to some hard test 
So we choose ourselves and see. 

Yes, we do choose and are we right 
Always in making our choice.'' 
Do we always choose for the best 
When we have been put to that test.? 
We think we have. All, well we might 
By not listening to His voice. 

But we soon find out 'tis not so ; 
That we have made a mistake, 
Most often when it is too late. 
Or very soon at any rate 
That after all we did not know 
What was good for our own sake. 

Through the long watches of the night 
Awake we can find no rest, 
What is this that whispers within 
Each one of us when we do sin, 
Telling us we have not done right.'' 
Our conscience, we must confess. 



10 



GOD KNOWS WHAT IS BEST 

Let us be careful what we do 
When we are put to the test. 
Be it pain, sorrow, joy, or woe 
Or the loss of someone we know. 
Then let us not forget 'tis true 
That God does know what is best. 



11 



THE ONLY ONE 

I'll always think of you, my dear, 

I'll always think of you, 
Though 'tis long since you last were here 

I'm stiH sincere and true. 

Yes, true to you I'll always be, 

No matter what may come. 
For I remember you told me 

I was the only one. 

The only one you said that had 
Captured your heart at sight. 

No other woman ever had 
Made you want to go right. 

"You loved me far better than life 

Itself, you told me then; 
You would ask me to be your wife, 

When you came back again. 

Here by the fire alone I sit 

Longing for you each day 
Come, dearest, tell me what is it 

That keeps you so away? 

Can it be that you have since then. 

As you refuse to come. 
Learnt to love another girl when 

I was the only one? 



12 



THE ONLY ONE 

You asked me if I loved you too 

And, love, did I not s^y 
My heart would always be for you 

When you came back some day? 

But now you, although my lover, 

Have chosen to forget. 
Now that you have found another, 

You leave me here to fret. 

However, I will pray that you 
Whom I still love, will be 

To your new love faithful and true. 
Though you were not to me. 

To the end will I think of thee. 
Though me you choose to shun. 

Some day you will learn that for me 
You were the only one. 



13 



THE HORIZON 

As I stand gazing far across the ocean 

From this rockbound coast, the thought suddenly 
occurs to me, 
How many of us now have any notion 

What is beyond that place where the sky seems to 
meet the sea? 
Up to there we have nothing to block our view, 

We can see all around us till our eyes rest on that 
spot 
Far away in the distance where I or you 

Cannot see beyond, even straining our eyes we can 
not. 

I wonder what is behind that long straight line? 

Maybe nothing but the sea, or perhaps some large 
vessel 
Is steaming along, yet we can see no sign 

Of any smoke or funnels; no from here we cannot 
tell 
What is passing along and we never will 

Unless we go out yonder when we shall find once 
again 
That from out there we can see all right until 

We find in the distance the sky meets the sea just the 



14 



THE TEN VIRGINS 

Ten virgins, beautiful and sweet, 

Clothed themselves with apparel new. 
For had they not promised to meet. 

The bridegroom who was now soon due? 
*New lamps for each one to carry. 

Their robes were of the very best. 
But the bridegroom chose to tarry 

So they laid themselves down to rest. 

They slept soundly, those virgins ten. 

As the precious minutes flew by. 
All around was calm and still, when 

At midnight there arose the cry, 
"Get ye forth to meet the bridegroom." 

Then all woke from sleep in great fear 
All was confusion in that room 

Now that their master was so near. 

The virgins took their lamps to trim 

Them hurriedly, for the time flies 
When they must needs go to meet him. 

Out of the ten but five were wise. 
For though all ten their lamps had brought 

'Twas then found some had forgotten 
To fill their vessels when they ought ; 

So loud was the complaining then. 

Then they which had no oil said, "Come, 
There remains but one thing to do. 

Give us some oil, ye that have some 
So that we may light our lamps too." 

But they that did have oil said, *'Nay, 



THE TEN VIRGINS 

For if we do will it not be 
All lamps will go out on the way 
And none wUl be able to see? 

"But rather go ye forth and buy 

From them that may have oil to sell. 
Haste or it will be wondered why 

Ye are late ; then no one may tell 
What the bridegroom may think of you 

If the virgins' lamps burn but dim 
When he learns there we're such a few 

That after all really met liim." 

At that the foolish virgins went, 

Sayings that they very soon would. 
For one and all of them were bent 

On getting some oil where they could. 
But while they were gone along came 

The bridegroom. If some were missing, 
There were five whom he could not blame. 

Who were ready for the wedding. 

Then all present went in with him 

To the marriage ceremony. 
Although the virgins' lights seemed dim 

There was plenty of light to see. 
Then after all had gone inside 

And the service having begun, 
Those doors that had been open wide 

Were now closed against everyone. 



16 



THE TEN VIRGINS 

Hardly had the doors been bolted 

When through the darkness of the night 

Five lights were seen. Women in white 

Gowns at first they appeared to be. 
But their gowns were dirty not clean. 

If you looked again you would see 

Why were they late where had they been. 

'Twas not unlikely they would soil 

Their clean white gowns, for had not they, 
These women in their search for oil 

Walked through thick mud and lost their way? 
All of them had run their fastest, 

They knew the bridegroom would not wait, 
So not once had they stopped to rest. 

But, alas, they find they are too late. 

Having regained their breath somewhat 

All knocked, then saying, "Let us in," 
But a voice said, "I know ye not, 

Know I only those now within." 
Then those five outside the closed door, 

One and all, bewailed their fate: 
Wishing they had made ready for 

Their master ; now it was too late. 



17 



THE TEN VIRGINS 

So let us always watch and pray 

Against temptation everyone. 
For ye know not the hour or day 

When your Lord and Master shall come. 
Be on the alert, so that we, 

When the time comes, hear the cries 
"He Cometh" — all will be ready 

Like those five virgins who were wise. 



18 



ELECTRICITY 

What is it that is put to a thousand uses 
And which now comes in for but a few abuses, 
Still only known by the effects it produces? 
Why, Electricity. 

That which can neither be destroyed or created, 
Yet can be moved from place to place, it is stated. 
And which to light perhaps it may be related, 
'Tis Electricity. 

Though we speak of it flowing 'tis not a fluid; 
We can see it not, yet it can be detected ; 
And from a certain course can it be deflected, 
This Electricity. 

Yet it is not a gas, of that we are quite sure, 
But whatever it may be, we can it still store 
In cells chemically till discharged they want more 
This Electricity. 

That makes telegraph and telephone possible; 

That drives our trains, causing them to go where we 

wiU; 
And which, if too powerful on contact, will kill, 
'Tis Electricity. 

When the day is done there comes the darkness of 

night. 
Yet by turning a switch we can have dazzling light. 
Then wireless, which helps the mariner in his plight ; 
'Tis Electricity. 

19 



ELECTRICITY 

What is it that besides the fire can keep us warm? 
That can bake our bread, cook food, no matter what 

form? 
And which soon heats our irons for ironing nice and 

warm? 

'Tis Electricity. 

It helps the doctor, for is not there the ex-ray 
By which he can examine bodies day by day? 
Now musical instruments may be made to play 
By Electricity. 

That which can be used now in all manner of ways ; 
By driving machines no end of labor it saves, 
But which if not protected could set all ablaze, 
This Electricity. 

Though it may seem strange, yet up to now it is so 
That no one has found out what 'tis that has so 
Helped all the world. We can feel it yet all we know 
Is that it's Electricity. 



20 



WEAVERS OF SPEECH 

Who are these weavers of speech by night and day, 
The invisible hands that ever play? 
Swiftly and skillfully joining to and fro 
Those cords by which the human voice can go? 

That weave the thoughts of rich and poor, one and all, 
Of towns and villages both large and small, 
That attend to all our calls early and late 
From near by or from a far away state. 

Whose is that voice that says when we choose to call 
Just the words "number please" and that is all ? 
Who is this person that is ever busy 
Sitting somewhere, where none of us can see? 

'Tis a woman's voice, but is she young or old? 
If she is young, how can she be so cold? 
For always from her I get the same reply ; 
My love she refuses, I wonder why. 

You that interlace triumph and tragedy, 
Why can't you speak just a few words to me? 
You that sit at some switchboard now so silent 
That can mingle gossip with sentiment. 

First joy and sorrow, then failure and success; 
Come tell me your name, you cannot do less. 
You that connect them all, tell me who thou art ; 
Spare me just a tiny place in your heart. 



21 



WEAVERS OF SPEECH 

But perhaps you are busy, can't spare the time 
To listen to any love words of mine. 
You that with so many calls can always cope, 
Come, my dear, give me just a little hope. 

But no ! your voice comes back to me just as cold, 
And I get the same reply as of old. 
Tell me, dear, to your hearts does love ever reach, 
All you invisible Aveavers of speech? 



22 



THE GLADIATOR 

The amphitheatre was crowded now 

As full as it possibly could be ; 
So much so that at first one wondered how 

All did find room, for you could not see 
A \acant place now to be had within ; 

'Twas impossible to get a seat 
Now that it was time for games to begin, 

While the crowd started stamping their feet. 

Gathered there were high officials, priests, too, 

Knights, senators and all the elite; 
Officers of the army not a few, 

The common folk found themselves a seat 
Wherever they could up in the high rows. 

The crowd in a joyous mood all were. 
Singing, laughing, kicking each other's toes ; 

Never had there been heard such a stir. 

At last there came the signal to begin ; 

Then ceased the stamping of feet and row 
And all was suddenly quiet within, 

For all heads were thrust forward and now 
Thousands of eyes were fixed on a small door. 

All round the arena held their breath 
Now as their favorite stepped forth once more 

To meet either victory or death. 

Then could be heard loud shouts from all the stands, 
The crowd cheered, 'twas a wonderful sight ! 

More stamping of feet and clapping of hands, 
Then more gladiators come to fight, 

23 



THE GLADIATOR 

Out into the arena, one by one, 

Ready, their muscles were firm and set, 

But amongst them all there seemed to be none 
That could equal their favorite yet. 

There he stood, the victor of many fights. 

Before them now, brave, fearless and so 
Unbeaten he had risen to lofty heights. 

He was now for the time their hero ; 
In strength and size a regular Hercules, 

Claimed to be the strongest of ail men. 
Just look at his neck, back, arms, and knees — • 

He was the darling of the women. 

The combat has begun, all start to bet ; 

Now nearly all for their favorite. 
A few for his opponent with the net. 

For both of the men looked very fit. 
The one now crouching ready to attack 

Like some wild beast waiting for its prey. 
The other hoping to drive him back 

By the aid of his net in some way. 

The people's favorite armed with a sword 

Makes a quick thrust, at the same time he 
Takes his eyes not once from that piece of cord 

Circling around his head he can see. 
But his opponent is nimble and quick, 

For bending aside the net bearer 
Escapes the thrust, then by means of a trick 

Rouses his man to attacks darer. 



24 



THE GLADIATOR 

The favorite attacks, he thinks he sees 

His chance. Once more will he be able 
To add to his long list of victories, 

But his man chose the time all too well, 
For quick as a wink now the net bearer 

With his tridept stabs the other's knees. 
The favorite staggers, falls, tries to stir, 

Above him that fatal net he sees. 

But too late! The net already has him 

Within its folds. The fight he must quit. 
From all sides rises a terrific din 

Now at the fall of the favorite. 
Again and again does he try to hack 

His way from out of that deadly net. 
At last, exhausted, he falls on his back, 

For his victor at last he has met. 

I 
Wherefore this noise that now rings in his ear? 

All these shouts, cheers, and clapping of hands. 
They are not for him, he cannot stir. 

He, the favorite, lies on the sands. 
For him all is finished, there's naught but deatli. 

His conqueror, sword in hand, will bend 
O'er him, a quick thrust, then in his last breath 

He hears cries " 'Tis finished ! 'tis the end." 



25 



I LOVED ONCE 

I loved once, but 'twas long ago, 

A little maiden whom I thought 

Was an angel, but now I know 

Too well the grief and pain she wrought 

Within my heart. I loved in vain 

And still love though the years have flown. 

She fled, I saw her not again 

So, alas, I was left alone. 

But I blame thee not, maiden fair. 
That thou didst then love another; 
And so for me you did not care. 
But you might have, when you left hero 
Told me you'd return. Now I will 
Maybe never see thee again. 
Thee my angel, I love thee still. 
Though my love has been all in vain. 



26 



REVENGE 

Ah! so the time has come at last, 
Although so many years have passed 
Since I last saw your evil face — 
You, the man, that chose to embrace 
The woman that I loved, alas. 

She who was always pure and sweet 
Until you she happened to meet. 
You with your clever, charming ways, 
Way back in those forgotten days. 
But now I have you in my net. 

I haven't forgotten, so don't fret; 
Oh, no, you have not got off yet ! 
Wait till I meet you all alone, 
I guess then I will change your tone. 
Thank God at last now we have met. 

You who were the cause of her shame; 
That caused her death before I came 
Back, as I thought, to claim my bride. 
But, no, I found that she had died ; 
The thought now drives me nigh insane. 

So now you leave the theatre. 

Pcor Jane, if you had not met her! 

Ah, well, that is all over now 

But though dead she shall soon know how 

Well that I really did love her. 



27 



REVENGE 

You leave the place, your head held high, 

You hail a taxi, so do I, 

Though you tell your driver to race 

I shall not lose sight of your face, 

Oh, no, and you will soon know why. 

So you live in a swellish place, 
But you always did go the pace. 
At last both cars turn down a street 
Quiet as you would ever meet 
Now we shall soon come face to face. 

I heard your car stop just ahead, 
So I turned to my man and said 
Here we are to stop. I got out there 
And having given him his fare 
He turned his car, made home for bed. 

I saw you then pay your driver, 
But it was so dark that neither 
Saw me as I crept behind you 
Up those steps, and little you knew 
That I was anywhere near here. 

I heard you fumbling for your key. 
Cursing because you could not see. 
Then as you opened your door I 
Leaped at you and you gave a cry 
As you hit the step with your knee. 



REVENGE 

I quickly slipped in after you 
And as quickly shoved the door to, 
Then at once you switched on the light. 
You saw me and your face went white, 
As you wondered what you could do. 

You knew me at once, I could see. 
And that you were afraid of me. 
You knew the reason why I had 
Come after you, that I was mad. 
So you then tried your best to flee. 

I caught you, though you struggled so, 
But, no, I would not let you go. 
My hand shot out and gripped your throat 
And then, my word, how I did gloat 
To hear you gasping for breath so! 

Your face changed from white to black ; 
You wrestled in vain to get back 
Your breath, but, no, you cannot slip 
Away now once my deadly grip 
On your throat is fixed, 'tis a knack. 

I have learnt how you chose to play 
The traitor whilst I was away. 
You knew she loved me and I her 
Yet you went and shamed her, you cur. 
But now here I will make you pay! 



29 



REVENGE 

Now you shall for the life you led 
The' woman that I was to wed, 
Never again see the daylight, 
So 'tis no use for you to fight. 
Thank God, now you will soon be dead. 

Ah ! your breathing now becomes choked. 
Those evil eyes ought to be poked 
Out of your head, you big coward. 
But now I hold the winning card. 
How hot it is, I am just soaked. 

'Tis the worst sight I ever saw, 
That face of yours when you no more 
Breathed as you then without a whimp 
Fell in my arms breathless and limp ; 
And I then threw you on the floor. 

Through a kind of a mist I seem 

To see a scaffold — what's it mean.? 

A tug, then the sound of a fall. 

I start, awake, and after all, 

Thank God, 'tis naught but a bad dream. 



30 



O LORD HAVE MERCY 

Lord, have mercy upon one this night 

Who has transgressed against Thy sacred name ! 

Thou who seest our acts, evil and good. 

How I should bless Thee then if Thou but would 

Forgive me once more, though I have again 

Done that which is Avickedness in Thy sight. 

Thou who didst out of naught create all things; 
Even this world and all there is within. 
Oceans, forests, deserts all that there be ; 
All creatures on land, in air and in sea. 
Have mercy. Lord, please do forgive my sin, 
Thou who art almighty, the King of Kings. 

Didst Thou not send Thy son, Thy only son, 
To us to save this world from total loss.'' 
Not in a palace but a stable born ; 
Afterwards tempted and treated with scorn. 
Who for man's sins didst die upon the cross. 
Do we not thank Thee for all thou hast done? 

Yes, we do, yet Thou knowest all too well 
That even now do we not still prefer 
Most often in sin and shame to wallow. 
Instead of Thee, Lord, we choose to follow, 
In contrary to Thy wishes as it were, 
The lusts of the flesh, the world, the devil. 



31 



O LOUD HAVE MERCY 

Though I have fallen and given Thee pain, 
Yet once again upon my knees I throw 
Myself, asking Thee that Thou wilt once more 
Have mercy, Lord, though I chose to ignore. 
All Thy warnings yet if I only know 
Thou wilt give me strength, I will try again. 



32 



SLEEP 

The sun has gone down in the west 
And now 'tis time that we must rest, 
For are not we forced, one and all, 
Then to obey nature's call — 
Sleep, Sleep? 

The day is spent, the night has come 
When we must cease our work and fun. 
For now 'tis time for us to thrust 
Aside all cares, for we must 
Sleep, Sleep. 

Does not each bird now seek its nest 
Hoping to find shelter and rest? , 
After flying the livelong day 
Now return, for must not they 
Sleep, Sleep? 

All beasts of the field now obey 
The call to rest in the same way 
Now that all is silent and still 
They until the morning will 
Sleep, Sleep. 

Yes, so it will be all our lives, 
And even when that time arrives 
When all must needs give up their task 
To fall into that long last 
Sleep, Sleep. 



A RAINY DAY 

It rains ; we have nothing but rain 
Beating against the window pane 
Is it not time we had some sun? 
How much more rain is there to come? 
Why can't it clear up so that we 
Could all go out and then be free 
To play hide and seek in the hay? 
To run, fight, and have our own way? 
But no, here we have to remain ; 
'Tis enough to drive one insane. 
All penned up in this little room. 
My, I hope it will clear up soon. 



Pouring with rain now all the morn, 
I wish I never had been born. 
To have to sit upon this stool, 
Oh, my, I do feel such a fool. 
Sitting watching the rain all day ; 
There is no room in here to play. 
If w^e could only go out there 
If only to get some fresh air ! 
But no we can't go out today 
In this room we shall have to stay. 
So 'tis no use for us to sob 
We'll make the best of a bad job. 



34 



A RAINY DAY 

Come cheer up, all, fetch out your toys, 
Laugh, shout, and make plenty of noise. 
Who cares whether it rains or not ; 
If it is cold or scorching hot ? 
I do not care, so there for one, 
We can still have plenty of fun. 
Although it is still raining fast 
Why should we all feel so downcast ? 
Is not this rain doing some good? 
Of course it is and if we would 
But wait a while, then we should see 
The good it does for you and me. 



Does not the rain water the ground, 
Trees, plants, and everything around? 
Think how it will refresh the grass 
Which dried up will now shoot up fast. 
If we could not have the rain, why 
Everything would wither and die. 
So let's be contented, each one. 
Whether we have the rain or sun. 
Even if you cannot go far 
Make yourself happy where you are, 
Though indoors we have to stay 
When we do have a rainy day. 



35 



THE REST ON THE WAY 

After journeying the live long day 
The weary traveler rests on his way. 
He has far to go, he cannot wait 
Long at the inn, or he will be too late. 
Too late to meet the one whom he seeks. 
Though he has now traveled for many weeks. 
He rests, then is once more on his way 
Soon as it is light, at the break of day. 

So we, like that weary traveler, 

One, all of us will soon have to stir — 

This World is but a rest on our way 

To that other World not so far away. 

The rest may not be so long for some, 

But yet for others many years to come 

Before they may reach that land above 

And come face to face with Him whom they love. 



36 



EVENSONG 

The sun had just set and now that it was twilight, 
Cathedral and Close would soon be hidden from sight. 
Out in the Close the trees cast shadows all around 
And a heavy dew was now falling on the ground. 
But from one of the cathedral windows a light 
Could be seen, at first dim then after a while bright. 
Outside in the darkness all was peaceful and still, 
When suddenly a deafening noise, which seemed to fill 
The entire close now with a thousand echoes. 
Was heard. The sleepy city awoke from its doze. 

It was only the bells chiming for evensong, 
Telling all who wished to hear it would not be long 
Now before the service in God's house would begin. 
Those bells seemed to be calling all to go within 
And give thanks to Him on high, both in song and 

prayer. 
In the cathedral there is plenty of room to spare 
For all who wish to attend, be they young or old 
No need for any to be left out in the cold. 

Dark figures can now be seen hurrying along : 
They are those few that are going to evensong. 
They enter by the main door, which is open wide 
And so are lost from sight to one standing outside. 
Then suddenly the cathedral bells cease their chime 
And all is calm and still once more ; now it is time 
For service to start. Outside all is hid from sight 
Now that twilight has ended and it is dark night. 



37 



EVENSONG 

Then from the dimly lighted building comes the sound 
Of an organ, then silence once more all around. 
Again the strains of that organ and now mingling 
With it can be heard the sound of voices singing. 
'Tis the choir. Youthful voices, tender and sweet, 
Come floating through the air. Listen it is a treat ! 
One at first thinks that it is angels singing, when 
They are joined by the deeper voices of the men. 

We, out in the close where all is now dark and cold, 
Suddenl}" to our ears is borne those words of old, 
"He hath magnified me and holy is his name." 
Loud and clear from the old cathedral they came. 
But, alas, presently the sound of voices cease 
The loud .strains of the organ die away and peace 
Once more reigns over all, both close and cathedral 
Then darkness, all is still, organ, voices, and bell. 



COME OUT, I SAY 

The day has been hot and sultry, 
But now the air is cool and nice 
As the last flickers of light flee 
Swiftly away. Does it entice 
One and all to come out of doors? 
They that have been all the long day 
Working in offices and stores? 
Surely they nov will not say nay. 

Come out and enjoy while you can, 
The soft cool breezes to your fill. 
Surely it will be better than 
Staying indoors where it is still 
Warm and close. So come out, I say, 
Come out if you are not a fool. 
For you may not during the day 
Be able to enjoy the cool. 

'Tis great out here without a doubt; 
Though it is dark, be not afraid, 
Very soon the moon will be out 
Then you will be sorry you stayed 
Indoors when there was such a moon. 
Come out and see it at its best. 
It will be bedtime all too soon 
When we must all needs go to rest. 



SALISBURY CATHEDRAL 

(ENGLAND) 

(Written in Bermuda) 

The cathedral close was now bathed in light, 

Light that was cast by a silvery moon, 
And along with the moon the stars shone bright. 

Altogether it 'twas as light as noon. 
There standing in the centre of that close 

As silent as the dead, a massive block. 
No matter what storms or how the wind blows 

This building stands as firm as any rock. 

It is the Cathedral of Salisbury, 

Long famed for its beauty by one and all. 
For even travelers in their hurry 

Do stop to gaze up at that spire so tall. 
For nowhere before have they chanced to meet, 

Although there are not many sights they miss, 
A spire that just over four hundred feet 

Soars right up toward the skies as does this. 

Up this lofty spire there are but a few 

That have ascended to the very top. 
Oh, just think of the magnificent view 

To be had up there ! No wonder we stop 
And think how we should like to go up there 

Oh, how we do envy those steeplejacks 
Who, ever fearless and brave, can just dare 

To go up and cement all holes and cracks. 



40 



SALISBURY CATHEDRAL 

If beautiful by day, it is by night 

Far more so ; if we ever chance to see 
This cathedral once in the pale moonlight 

'Tis one of the loveliest sights there be. 
But placed in a valley with hills all round 

We see not the spire as far as we might. 
Yet many in the past have, I'll be bound. 

When lost, seen it, and thanked God for its height. 

Though maybe surpassed by many others 

When it comes to architecture inside, 
Yet there is not another spire like hers. 

Say what you will, it cannot be denied. 
No better example has yet been found 

Of early architecture than this be. 
In Great Britain or anywhere around 

None can touch the Cathedral of Salisbury. 

Note the uniformity, harmony 

That has been displayed in its construction. 
Not a trace of foreign art can we see 

Through all these ages saved from destruction. 
What tales we could hear of joy, pain, great fights, 

If those grey walls had the power of speech ! 
If those stone figures could have seen, what sights 

Would have been revealed to the eyes of each. 



41 



SALISBURY CATHEDRAL 

Though I have wandered far from England's shore. 

Yet I know the thoughts of this cathedral 
Will live in my memory ever more. 

Pointing skyward I can see that spire still. 
Its reflection in the river close by ; 

Its altar, the carvings, the stained windows, 
All these I cannot forget if I try. 

They seem more beautiful as the time goes. 

Though only in thoughts, yet perhaps some day, 
If it should be God's will, then once again 

I may really see you come I that way 

For I know you will be always the same. 



42 






THE VIOLINS 

The stillness of the warm summer's evening 
Was now broken by sounds sweet and low. 

To the ear strains of music came stealing- 
Coming from the ballroom down below. 

The melancholy wail of violins 

Now came wafting sweetly through the air. 
Above all other sounds they ever win — 

Their tone always beautiful and rare. 

They come first high and loud, then soft and low, 

The strains of those violins down there. 
As from one-step to dreamy waltz they go, 

For you can hear them now everywhere. 

t 
They fill the ballroom with their plaintive wail 

Now and sometimes far into the night 
Filling the hearts of both female and male 

With bygone memories and delight. 

But the time comes (dancers have left the floor) 
When all the guests, old and young, have fled ; 

The strains of violins are heard no more, 
All is darkness, their voices are dead. 



43 



THE WIND 

Speak not in whispers, O gentle wind! 

What is it that you can always find 

To talk about? Your voice high and low, 

Tell me at once, for I wish to know. 

Sometimes you appear to be so glad, 

Then at others you are very sad. 

For I have heard you many times groan 

And behind doors and shutters you moan. 

Can you really be so unhappy 

When often you seem so gay and free. 

Then sometimes 1 think that you get mad, ■ 

For your behavior is very bad. 1 

You blow a gale, and you cause rough seas ; I 

You unroof houses, you blow down trees; * 

There is nothing you can do too bad. 

Sometimes when you appear to be mad, 

You hurl yourself with all might and main 

Your wrath not one bit will you restrain. 

And you choose to make a frightful din. 

Do you then know what you are doing? 

But mostly you are happy and gay 

And with the trees and flowers you play. jf 

Across the moor I hear you whistle 

Through the heather and the thistle. m 

You frolic to and fro day and night ; 1 

You are very gentle when you might ' 

Destroy. But no you are not angry 

Then on land, and you are calm on sea. 



* 



44 



THE WIND 

Then sometimes you are quiet and still 
And I wonder then if you are ill 
Or if you are just taking a rest 
In some quiet spot; then afraid lest 
You might wear yourself out, for you do 
Work very hard I'll give you your due. 
But still you tell me not what you say, 
You refuse me though I wait all day. 



45 



HIS DEAD LOVE 

Before the fire, in an armchair large and low, 
Sits a young man now gazing at the flames. 

He seems lost in thought, he is alone, for, lo. 
Though young, a bachelor he still remains. 

Over his face comes an expression so sad 
As it is lit up by the bright firelight. 

Why seems he so sad.'' why, he ought to be glad. 
He is young, he should be merry and bright. 

But he is not, for his thoughts are far away. 

His face looks careworn too, can he be ill? 
No, he notices not the shadows that play 

Around the room, which is gloomy and still. 

For in the flames of that fire does he not see 
A form divine.? And what beauty and charms 

This maiden has ! She beckons to him and he 
Leaps towards her to clasp her in his arms. 

He can see that face to him so fair and dear, 
Those tender eyes of grey so full of bliss. 

Her hair touches his cheek now he is so near her. 
Her face is near his, she waits for his kiss. 

But just as he stoops to kiss her on the lips 

Alas, she vanishes out of his sight ! 
For into a kind of mist she again slips. 

He sees her not, though the fire burns as bright. 



46 



HIS DEAD LOVE 

'Twas only a vision, for nothing remains 
Of that fair maiden gone for evermore. 

He falls back and once more gazes at the flames ; 
He is sadder now than he was before. 

But after a while sitting there he can feel 
The soft pressure of lips touching his hair, 

And then two arms around his neck gently steal; 
He looks down, but still there is no one there. 

Then before the fire he falls into a doze 

But, no, now his breathing cannot be heard 

He is no more ; his spirit gently flows 
Away to join her he so dearly loved. 



47 



EYES OF BLUE 

Look at me, dear, with those eyes of blue 

And tell me that you will be 
To me, dear, always faithful and true, 

When I am across the sea. 

It may be years before I again 

Look into those eyes of blue. 
Yet your lover, yes, I shall remain, 

I shall always think of you. a, 

When old you v.ill to nie be the same; 

So tell me you will be true, 
Lift your head that I may once again 

Look into those eyes so blue. 



I 



48 



LEFT ALONE 

Alone once more, all alone, 
For, alas, my love has flown. 
Little girl, why didst thou flee — 
Were you afraid of me? 

I harmed thee not, little one, 
Yet think what thou hast now done. 
You vanished, I know not why, 
Care you not if I die,? 

We quarreled not, I and you. 
As 'tis said most lovers do. 
We had no sharp words, not one. 
Why from me did you run? 

Was not my love good enough? 
Or did you find me too rough? 
Little maiden, is that why 
You went without goodbye? 

I know you lived a gay life, 
Yet when you became my wife 
You said 'twas love you wanted; 
Love you had, yet you fled. 

'Tis no fault of mine, my dear, 
That my love you did not hear. 
You were everything to me, 
Yea, and always will be. 



49 



LEFT ALONE 

Go and find another man, 
Find love elsewhere, if you can. 
But no matter where you try 
No one loves you like I. 



50 



THE QUESTION 

Should a man marry when he is young or should he 

Wait a while until he has grown older? 
Some say that a man marrying at twenty-three 

Will presently find his love grows colder; 
That his ideas change, then he will repent his haste, 

For he may find, after he is married, 
That some other girl is more suited to his taste, 

Then, too late, he will wish he had tarried. 

Others say 'tis best for men to marry quite young so 

They may have someone to love and steady 
Them throughout life. If this is best, I do not know. 

Then there are men that are never ready 
To marry ; that seem to prefer the single life. 

While others are too busy seeking gold 
And often pleasure, to be bothered with a wife. 

What do they care, but wait till they grow old.? 



51 



NOT FOR HIM 

When he saw her first it was at night 
When she stepped out of her car to go 
Inside the opera house, where one might 
Be cheerful, gay and forget all woe. 
He thought that he had never before 
Seen such beauty as his eyes now saw. 
He gazed at her, as he held his breath, 
He who was now nearly starved to death. 
For she seemed to be a form divine. 
From where he was he could see her fine. 
Such beautiful eyes and lovely hair. 
She turned his head, he was forced to stare 
At her beaut3\ But not long was he 
This most charming girl allowed to see, 
For, she entered, with steps swift and light, 
And so was quickly lost to his sight. 

But still he stood in the shadows long 
Watching the crowd as they passed along. 
But not one face, though he saw many 
Pass through the doors, yet none in beauty 
Could be compared to that girl inside. 
He looked long at those doors open wide 
Longing to go in that he might see 
That girl. But, no, he had no money. 
He was ouj; of work and starving, too. 
Hundreds passed by him, yet there were few 
That chose to notice him standing there. 
If he was starving, what did they care.? 



62 



NOT FOR HIM 

Yet although now it was getting late 
Out in the cold there he chose to wait. 
Well in the shadows did he remain 
Until he should see that face again. 
Bresently she came out through the door; 
She seemed more beautiful than before, 
At least to him she appeared to be 
For she looked his way and he could see 
Once more that face; how he loved her then. 
He thought she saw him watchmg her when 
Alas, the thing happened that he feared, 
Up came her car and she disappeared. 

She went, little knowing that she had 
Made some one at first glad and then sad. 
She knew not that a man at first sight 
Had fallen in love with her that night. 
Yet it was so, for he would ever, 
If only in thought, always love her. 
For 'twas like he would see her no more, 
For she was rich and he was so poor. 
Yet he prayed that some day they might meet 
He would not forget that face so sweet. 
She was gone, so 'twas no use to stay, 
So with a deep sigh he went his way. 



63 



'AFRAID TO DIE' 

The end is near I know for sure; 
How I can tell, I know not why. 
Let me live just a few years more, 
Dear Lord, I am afraid to die. 

How can I die when I'm so young.? 
Once well and strong I would 
Have lived for many years to come. 
Lord, if I only could. 

But something tells me 'tis not so, 

That life is not for me. 

Quick, oh, speak Lord, speak, I must know. 

Tell me wh}' this should be. 

Content I am to suffer pain 
And on this bed to lie. 
Even if I rise not again. 
But do not let me die. 

I cannot bear the thought of death, 
Of that long last goodbye. 
Fetch water quick, I gasp for breath. 
My throat is getting dry. 

The room is dark; why can't I see.? 
Who has put out the light.? 
Or is it.? No, it cannot be 
That I have lost my sight. 



54 



"AFRAID TO DIE' 

The fever is gripping me fast. 
I know it as I lay. 
I wonder how long I shall last 
Before the dawn of day. 

Must it be that when I am dead 
With a grave for a cot 
And a little cross o'er my head 
That all my bones will rot? 

My head grows thick ; I hear voices 
Now ringing in my ear, 
And such loud hideous noises 
I am afraid to stir. 

To my ears comes a low tolling, 
It must be a church bell. 
Where is it that I am going,? 
Is it heaven or hell? 

I am afraid. Lord, where are you? 
Come nearer, leave me not. 
Must I die? no, it can't be true. 
Oh, my, I feel so hot. 

So 'tis the devil after all, 
I almost guessed as much. 
I will not listen to his call, 
Though I can feel his touch. 



55 



''AFRAID TO DIE' 

He thinks that now I'll have to pay 
For taking his advice 
In everything, both work and play, 
But death is not the price. 

If it is, he will be cheated, 
I'm putting up a fight. 
I will not be one of the dead, 
I'll live just out of spite. 

But wait, why this vision forming 
Now right before my eyes.'* 
Is it for me to take warning 
To heed and to be wise.? 

Out of a kind of mist appears. 
As I think of my wrong, 
A cross, I see now, as it ncars, 
Someone is nailed thereon. 

At the appearance of that cross 
The devil must have fled. 
It must have filled him with remorse 
Those loud noises are dead. 

Then from afar I seem'd to hear 
A voice that said to me, 
" 'Tis the devil that makes you fear. 
Renounce him, he will flee. 



56 



''AFRAID TO DIE' 

"Behold him who was crucified, 
Wlio upon the cross laid 
Down his life for man's sins. He died 
For he was not afraid." 

The voice ceased ; the vision has now 
Vanished before mj eyes 
And once again I hear the row 
Of those loud, piercing cries. 

But they trouble me not, you see ; 
I now trust in God and 
I know well that He will help me 
To reached that promised land. 

Over me a wonderful calm 

Has come, I now know why. 

With Thee I can come to no harm, 

So now, Lord, let me die. 

Take me. Lord, please do not ponder, 
To Thy home up on high. 
For ever, for now no longer 
Am I afraid to die. 



57 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

This story that I here relate 

Will interest 3'ou too, 
For I can guarantee to state 

That every word is true. 

Now I was born and bred in Howe, 

A hamlet on the moors. 
I've lived here threescore ten years now. 

Among the rugged tors. 

Howe has a small population, 

Ten houses at the most. 
Thirty miles from a station, 

A dozen from the coast. 

At Howe one leads a quiet life 

Year in, year out the same. 
Far from the noise of city strife, 

Its poverty and pain. 

Yet not far away you may see 

Surrounded by a wall, 
A building wherein misery 

Reigns till the end of all. 

Behind this wall gloomy and bleak. 

Weather beaten and grey. 
Stands the prison of Chesterpeake 

WTierein the convicts stay. 



58 



THE CONVICT'S LAST ACT 

Visit the place at night, by chance, 

When all is calm and still, 
And you then see at a glance 

Chance of escape is nil. 

A massive block of masonry, 

Built of limestone and square. 
Situated in a valley 

Where one woiild never dare. 

For this high wall guarded by spikes 

Forms barriers against 
Would-be deserters and the likes 

Of those beyond that fence. 

At every gate a warder stands 

Motionless as the grave ; 
A gun held ready in his hands 

To stop an unknown knave. 

What chance for a man at this hour 

With a guard all alert 
In the central lookout tower 

Ready to do him hurt.? 

During the day the inmates work 

Down in a pit close by. 
Woe betide both them that would shirk 

And those who will not try. 



59 



THE CONVICT'S LAST ACT 

Day after day, year after year, 

The work is carried on. 
Now and then fresh faces appear 

To suffer for their wrong. 

Should they suffer? Of course they should, 

They are guilty of crime. 
They did not make good when they could, 

Now they must serve their time. 

Maybe it was not all their fault. 

You are inclined to say; 
Evil companions — however, 

That may be proved some day. 

Meanwhile they have to pay the price, 

Though it may seem so dear, 
For letting themselves be enticed 

When they should have steered clear. 

Their work is both hard and trying, 

Let one say what they may 
You cannot help admiring 

The way that they obey. 

Doing the same as the days pass, 

Clearing the stone away, 
Trying their best while the time lasts, 

Digging stone is no play. 



60 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

For crimes committed in the past 

These toilers have been caught. 
How long shall their punishment last 

When many still have not? 

Many have come of high degree, 

Some were even of fame, 
Who would not care now to be free. 

Now they have shamed their name. 

Others would gladly take a chance, 

That is, if they but could 
Be sure of making some advance 

Toward that yonder wood. 

One man, of whom I now will speak. 

His name was Allen Fry, 
Did get away from Chesterpeake 

But only for to die. 

The year I can well remember, 

Was eighteen seventy-nine, 
Toward the end of December, 

Just around Christmas time. 

Although now the years have long passed 

Never to be regained 
I'll remember when I'm asked 

The year that I have named. 



61 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

Fry, a convict, was hero, too, 

As jou will soon agree. 
His sad story was all too true, 

I'll tell it by degrees. 

'Twas six o'clock in the evening. 

All had long been indoors. 
O'er the sky dark clouds were stealing. 

Wind howled on the moors. 

Old men of Howe, as if their right. 

Now viewed the skies with fear 
That it would be a dirty night, 

The coming storm was near. 

Some of us gathered at the Inn; 

There was Tom Jones, Jack Hoar, 
Farmer Giles, Bob Sims, Archie Flynn, 

Billy Bates and several more. 

Many were the nights we had spent 

Up at the old Grey Hound, 
Seeking gossip and refreshment — 

There both were to be found. 

So in the front room of that Inn 
We gathered every night 

To talk, drink, smoke, often to sing- 
Old songs with all our might. 



62 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

On this night to which I refer 

All gathered together 
Round the fire, none cared to stir 

Out in such fierce weather. 

The skies grew darker and tlie wind 

Grew fast into a gale. 
Rocked everything it got behind 

And moaned o'er every dale. 

Suddenly a flash lit the skies 

A vivid sheet of flame, 
Momentarily blinding our eyes, 

Then going out again. 

Then a low rumbling sound, which made 

All the windows rattle 
Like the roll of distant drums played 

Just before a battle. 

Not I, and I question whether 

If anyone now in Howe, 
Ever remembers such weather 

As we were having now. 

Old Bobbie Syms then said, "Methinks 

I'm feeling pretty dry," 
At which he called loudly for drinks 

But received no reply. 



63 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

We waited, but still no one came, 

So we shouted, "King, King !" 
All breathed curses on that man's name 

For keeping us waiting. 

Then suddenly fat landlord King 

Came bustling in with "Ha ! 
Sorry to keep you gents waiting, 

But was kept in the bar." 

About the middle of the storm 

The wind all at once fell, 
Then gently to our ears was borne 

The tolling of a bell. 

Wondering if we were quite sane 

We listened breathlessly. 
Hark ! Ah ! there it goes once again 

As plain as it could be. 

Some said it might be the church bell 

Ringing for evensong. 
It was not that, I knew quite well. 

Because the time was wrong. 

Then once again above the blast 

Coming from o'er the knoll 
We heard again as loud as last 

That melancholy toll. 



64 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

Then before any else could speak 

Tom Jones, who had risen, 
Said, " 'Tis the bell of Chesterpeakc 

Over at the prison." 

At that we all listened once more. 

Yes, Tom Jones was quite right; 
We heard it just above the roar 

Of that dark, stormy night. 

Its mournful note, loud and clear, 

Always in the same key, 
Was a warning for all to hear 

No matter who they be. 

'Twas plain someone had escaped, for 

That was what the bell meant. 
At the prison across the moor 

So warning had been sent. 

The crack of guns, and cries of men. 

Was then borne to our ears. 
Dead silence, then the wind again 

To calm all our worst fears. 

Then Farmer Giles before the fire 

Said it was not a shot ; 
Declared that Jones was a liar, 

That the bell was all rot. 



65 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

But Giles was as deaf as a clam, 

We all had heard that, bell, 
So no one argued with the man 

Who had not heard its knell. 

Who could live on a night like this 
On those moors bleak and bare? 

For if the warders' shots had missed 
'Twas certain death out there. 

Had the fugitive got off free.? 

And had he succeeded 
In his wild dash for liberty 

Or had he been shot dead.? 

He may be lying on the ground 

Wounded and in great pain, 
With not much chance of being found, 

But there he must remain. 

All of us crouching round the fire 

Now breathed a humble prayer 
For the poor creatures in the mire 

And swampy marsh out there. 

The storm was raging at its height ; 

Wind, thunder, lightning, rain, 
The latter beating with all its might 

Against the window pane. 



66 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

The wind plajcd round the chinks of doors, 

Making a mournful sound. 
It even got under the floors, 

Although so near the ground. 

The roar of the thunder o'er head 

Was hideous to hear, 
'Twas loud enough to wake the dead, 

Making the bravest fear. 

With the noise of thunder and rain 

We could not hear that bell. 
Though we listened often again 

We could not hear its knell. 

Then Landlord King came in and said, 

"Now, boys, it's getting late. 
No doubt I can find all a bed. 

Something at any rate. 

"You can't go home a night like this 

Out in that fierce tempest; 
With this lightning, think of the risk, 

You best stay here and rest." 

What King said was true, to be sure, 

It was now nearly dawn. 
So if we slept here the night, all 

Would be calm by the morn. 



67 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

All had just risen, when a flash 

Suddenly lit up all; 
And then was heard an awful crash, 

Shook floor and every wall. 

We all stood there trembling with fear. 

And not one said a word. 
That crash had been dreadful to hear. 

For still it could be heard. 

Then Hoar and Sims in the same breath 
Said, "Boys, we had some luck," 

Yes ; that flash would be certain death 
For anyone it struck. 

But the worst of the storm had passed. 

The wind blew not so strong, 
It would not now much longer last, 

All would be calm ere long. 

But, alas, although it seems we 

In the Grey Hound had luck ; 
A fire from the window we see 

Yes, something had been struck. 

Out in the darkness of the night 

It was seen by all eyes, 
A reddish light, first dull, then bright, 

Reflecting on the skies. 



68 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

We all gazed out of the window 

At that light brighter now. 
Wliose house could it be that burnt so? 

Thank God, 'twas none in Howe. 

Then Billy Bates suddenly said, 

"Come, boys, we must go out. 
Not one of us could go to bed 

Without helping, I doubt." 

Bates was right ; we all ought to go 

For right now there might be 
Lives in danger for all we know ; 

We must go out and see. 

So we all put on our raincoats 

And then snatched up our hats. 
Wrapped thick mufflers well round our throats. 

Took a drink — two, perhaps. 

Then King, who had gone to get lights. 

Came back now hot and damp 
And, of course, at once there were fights 

To get hold of a lamp. 

We all went, though the rain still poured, 

As King opened the door. 
For we quickly hurried toward 

That fire across the moor. 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

In the distance we saw the light 

As we staggered ahead, 
For it seemed to burn now quite bright, 

No longer a dull red. 

On the moor how the wind did blow. 

We wished we were in bed. 
Our lanterns bobbing to and fro. 

As we blundered ahead. 

All felt by this time well nigh dead, 

We moved at a good pace 
Despite the weather. Flynn then said, 

"Why, that's old Gibbon's place." 

Yes, it was in this direction 

We all remembered then; 
As we kept slowly on and on, 

Cursing our luck, we ten. 

Hoar said, "Why, Gibbons went away ; 

I know he went to Pearl 
To market only yesterday, 

But there's his wife and girl." 

We cursed Gibbons for his queer taste 

In living right out here. 
'Twas lonely and bleak, yet we raced 

On, our hearts full of fear. 



70 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

Now at last we had reached our goal, 

But after all our pains 
Were we now too late after all? 

The house was naught but flames. 

Nothing but the bare walls remained 

Of the Gibbons cottage, 
And these were discolored and stained 

By the flames, not by age. 

Then suddenly we heard a groan 

From close by. Some ran 
Round the ruins, but all had flown 

Then we saw a woman. 

She was then kneeling on the ground 

Supporting somebody 
In her arms. We went at a boupd 

To see who it could be. 

It was Gibbons' wife, after all, 

With her, her daughter Peg, 
Who must have had a nasty fall 

For she had broke her leg. 

'Twas the daughter's room that was struck 

By that flash of lightning, 
The wife, it seems, had better luck, 

It did not touch that wing. 



71 



THE CONVICT'S LAST ACT 

It seems the mother had rushed then 

For her daughter who came 
Hurrying out of her room, when 

She was stopped by the flame. 

But the fire drove the mother back 

Although she tried all ways ; 
For in courage she did not lack, 

Though stairs were in a blaze. 

But the passage she could not cross. 

All around her was black 
With smoke and she, filled with remorse, 

Now was forced to turn back. 

Meanwhile the daughter found that she 

Was a prisoner, for 
Time after time she tried to flee 

Across the passage floor. 

Stifled and blinded, she was forced 

Back into her room, where. 
At the window, as all was lost. 

She offered up a prayer. 

God answered her prayer, for she saw 

At that moment below 
Outside running toward the door 

A man she did not know. 



72 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

But now the flames were all around her, 

She stood trembling with fear. 
From the window she could not stir; 

She knew her end was near. 

Then to her ears came the sound 

Of one forcing his way 
Through the flames and thick smoke around. 

Would it keep them at bay? 

But, no, it had not, for she saw 

Through the smoke the figure 
Of a man rusli across the floor. 

Who stopped on seeing her. 

Throwing her arms round his neck she 

Looked up into liis face. 
He picked her up and turned to flee 

Out of that burning place. 

Suddenly she noticed his clothes 

The marks of arrows bore. 
Then, weary, she started to doze, 

And soon she saw no more. 

The next she knew, she was in pain. 

But 'twas not from the fire. 
Lying down in the mud and rain. 

How came she in this mire? 



73 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

She thought some bones she must have broke, 

She found she could not stu* 
And was just giving up all hope 

When she saw her mother. 

The fire by now was nearly dead. 

We wondered what to do, 
When, turning to the girl. Bates said, 

"Where's he that rescued you?" 

The girl roused herself from a doze, 

Shook her head and said, "Oh, 
He had arrows marked on his clothes, 

Alas, 'tis all I know." 

We searched the ruins for him then ; 

Yes, both inside and out, 
And were just giving up hope when 

Jones inside gave a shout. 

Yes, we found a man lying there 

With ashes for a bed. 
We carried him to the fresh air 

But, alas, he was dead ! 

There he lay silent ; he who had 

Given his life to save 
A girl's. 'Twas wonderful, yet sad. 

For he had been so brave. . 



74 



THE CONVICTS LAST ACT 

Then o'er him both girl and mother 

Did tears of sorrow weep, 
But he lay still, he did not stir, 

He slept the long last sleep. 

On his clothes were those marks of shame, 

Those arrows broad and black. 
He had fallen and shamed his name, 

Yet courage he didn't lack. 

He who had escaped and was free. 

Yet he had not thought twice 
To give his life, would you or me 

Make such a sacrifice? 



'Twas true he had committed crime 

Even when a mere lad. 
Though he had not served all his time, 

'Twould be worse if he had. 

As he could not face the flames, so 

He must have in despair 
Thrown the girl out of the window 

Then perished in the flare. 

'Twas true a convict was his lot, 

From his warders he ran. 
But, nevertheless, was he not 

A hero and a man? 



75 



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